Once upon a time . . .
I lived my life, as though any day could of been my last.
At the tender age of 15, that was how I was living.
THUG LIFE wasn’t just a cool slogan for me
It was a religion.

Amen . . . .
A man . . . manifested a plan
To cultivate the minds and land of his people
THE PEOPLE
We shall overcome . . . some day
But for now, we can forget about being treated socially equal
Maybe in 30 yrs or so . . . in a 100 yrs or mo’
What you reap you sow . . . When I think I GROW
When I think I GLOW . . . When one think, it SHOWS
Think about it . . .
Scratch your head and blink about it
Dropped some jewelry, the impact knocked a link up out it

Once upon a time . . .
I was of a different mind
On the block all the time – committing different crimes
I grew up poor . . . refrigerator on E, my bed was the floor
Ventured down a different path
Opened a different door
Emotions became a wrath
The block became my whore
Money became my b****
My b**** became my god
And GOD became a myth . . .

My salvation, was inside a spliff
The burning bush was burning
My world was turning, upside down
A child hood was lost – a light was found
Society is out of bounds, to the undesirables
Kids wanting to be what they see on cable
Damn near every household possess a Cain and Abel
Damn near every parent in my hood was unstable
A half full 40oz in the fridge, a bag of red hot chips on the table
Crack pipes stashed in the medicine cabinets
It’s easy for the youth to gravitate, to the GHETTO FABULOUS
Gangsters, killers and hustlers
Foreign whips, and customers
Fly girls lust for us
Feeling like you on top of the world
But all along, you’re on top of nothing
At least, you’re on top of something
Even if it’s on top of nothing

Once upon a time . . . I was of a different mind
My 3rd eye was blind to the symbols and signs
Now I can see CLEARLY

My life is like a chair with no legs
Or equal to a body with no head
Crying baby just wants to be fed
Go ahead, Slim, and jump off that edge
Ever tried walking on raw eggs?
It’s like living in your bedroom with no bed
Or waking up and your whole family is dead
That’s the moment we all dread
You didn’t care when you was serving that basehead
Just think about your life and what really lies ahead

I come from a struggle
Welfare mother on drugs
And a dog eat dog world
Where they say only the strong survive
And you watch the murder of friends
Through your innocent eyes
I come from where the devil is strong
And God is weak
And the only time you pray
Is for something to eat
I come from a society of its own
But where I’m going is a different spiritual zone
Where I can sit and write at Sandy Spring lake
And not have to worry who is creeping behind the gate
I’m going to where God is pushed first
And the devil is so shallow
And temptation is so hollow
And my new friends so positive I’m not afraid to follow
Where I’m going is someplace positive
You might want to go

This poem was written on the recent Free Minds retreat to Sandy Spring Friends School, after walking in silence through a former stretch of the Underground Railroad.

Kids starving, momma nodding and pops foreign
These are the broken homes that most of us were born in
No food, no heat, and no water
This here is poverty, where life expectancy is much shorter

No shoes, holey clothes, and runny noses
In a place where praying is unheard of and who is Moses?
Prostitutes, drug dealers and cold killers
Doing errands for them so I could eat is all I remember

Birthdays was the worst days
We had to steal out of stores when we was thirsty
They say that there ain’t no love for the wicked
But don’t judge us, life chose us—we didn’t pick it

Surrounded by steel gates, none of them pickets
It’s like we were raised for jail, I don’t get it
Kids getting used, molested, and abused
Wearing long sleeves to school to hide the bruise

“M.O.B.,” a lot of dudes say; they live by the rules
And the young girls think it’s cute, but they are so confused
But I love where I’m from—don’t get it misconstrued
Even back when my lil bro was crying from hunger
And I ain’t know what to do

A couple of years later and it still draws emotions from you
And it’s still taking our young men to jail by the bundles
I’m a proud survivor of our world that we call the jungle
And even when I get old and rich, I’ll always remember “da struggle”

Myam Erica Where you’re either struck With poverty late or born With next to nothing.. Where your wealth is determined By what drugs you’re smoking.. No father figure, So the hustlers get put on pedestals, And parents use their kids as everyday drug mules..

Myam Erica Where I’m labeled as a product of my environment Conditioned to believe my power came from a prison sentence.. No hood affiliation is seen as a major flaw.. And our number 1 goal in life Is to simply break the law..

Myam Erica Where we learn more from music than our school books.. And the first thing we practice is not a jumpshot, But our “cold Killer look”.. No time for dull moments, so we search for our fun.. But the games we play Always deal with bullets and a gun..

See, I could paint a vivid picture With a brushstroke like Picasso.. Or turn experience into music Like your favorite singer with their piano.. Show off my intelligence And let them know we can better us.. But that would go against everything taught in… My America

Upcoming Events

Join Our Email List

First Name

Last Name

Email (required) *

Yes, I would like to receive emails from Free Minds Book Club & Writing Workshop.

Constant Contact Use.

By submitting this form, you are granting: Free Minds Book Club & Writing Workshop, 2201 P St NW, Washington, DC, 20037, permission to email you. You may unsubscribe via the link found at the bottom of every email. (See our Email Privacy Policy (http://constantcontact.com/legal/privacy-statement) for details.) Emails are serviced by Constant Contact.

Free Minds Book Club & Writing Workshop

Free Minds uses books, creative writing, and peer support to awaken DC youth incarcerated as adults to their own potential. Through creative expression, job readiness training, and violence prevention outreach, these young poets achieve their education and career goals, and become powerful voices for change in the community.

Winner of the 2015 Aspen Ideas Award from the Aspen Institute, the Justice Potter Stewart Award from the Council for Court Excellence, and the Library of Congress Best Practices in Literacy Award.

United Way of the National Capital Area (UWNCA) #9633
Combined Federal Campaign (CFC) # 75998